Eloa
by Nerwen Aldarion
Summary: Spoilers for The Crimson Ticket and Season 5: Lisbon has to vent her frustrations over Jane and Lorelei Martins but as it reaches a fever pitch she decides to confront her problems head on, which leads her to a startling and frightening realization.


Disclaimer: Bruno Heller owns The Mentalist, Eloa was created by Alfred de Vigny, I'm just playing with the characters

A/N: Rest assured, the next chapter of Lavinia is still being worked on but after the FABULOUS promo I had to feed this muse. This was an idea that just came to me and I wanted to share it with you guys. It's important to note that the parts in italics and centered are from de Vigney's poem while the parts that are italicized and aligned left are simply Lisbon remembering previous dialogue.

Enjoy!

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Eloa

_All were grieving; in vain Jesus said: "He is sleeping."_

_Seeing the shroud and the dead man he himself wept._

_O holy tear given to friendship!_

_You were not abandoned to the winds!_

_A diamond urn, with Seraphim leaning over it,_

_Invisible to mortals, received it softly;_

_Like a marvel, astonishing even to the Heavens,_

_Carried you sparkling to the feet of the Eternal._

_A favorable look from the ever-open eye_

_Touched the ineffable gift and caused it to shine,_

_And the Holy Spirit poured forth his power upon her,_

_Gave soul and life to the divine essence._

_Just as the incense, which burns in the sun's rays,_

_Changes into pure fire, a brilliant cherry-red,_

_So was a white and growing form_

_Seen to go up from the heart of the dazzling urn._

_A voice was heard which said: "Eloa!"_

_And The Angel appeared and said: "Here am I!"_

It started the night after they returned from Las Vegas, after they captured Lorelei Martins and their first attempt at interrogating her. Jane hadn't wanted her to be a part of it but Lisbon had insisted, she wasn't going to lose the opportunity to finally catch Red John. She'd sat there and confidently spoke to the lovely woman with an impish smile and eyes that sparkled with mirth and a hint of madness. Lisbon thought she was in control, she thought she had heard it all.

She'd been wrong.

_ "We were lovers, him and me. Did he tell you that?"_

Again and again she had to sit there and listen as Lorelei savored the moment. _"Lover,"_ she called him more than once, each time looking at Lisbon with an almost feral gleam in her eye.

And Jane leaned over to kiss the top of her head, wrapping his arms around her for a brief moment before softly walking away.

All she had been able to do was sit there in horror.

When she tried to talk to him about it he refused, just remained silent about everything. But Lisbon was boiling with something that she couldn't identify. It left a metallic taste on her tongue and a rush of bitterness flowed through her veins. "You slept with her!" She railed at him but he didn't say anything.

She'd needed a way to vent out this frustration, this rage. So she'd gone to the one place she could think of: the firing range.

She stood there for hours, shredding one paper target and then another until the room smelled thickly of gunpowder and hot metal and the targets resembled Swiss cheese. Every time she squeezed that trigger she heard that cruel woman's light laughter, her blinding smile and flashing eyes.

_"Lover."_

_ "Lover."_

_ "Lover."_

Lisbon simply fired again and again but the sound of gunshots never drowned out the voice in her head.

_"Good luck, Teresa. Love you."_

She fired another bullet and another, the loud boom echoing against the walls and her aching heart.

_"So that thing you said before you shot me…wh-what did you mean?"_

_ "What did I say? I was kind of hyped up."_

Lisbon squeezed the trigger harder this time, imagining her consultant's smiling face now, that handsome face that haunted her every time she closed her eyes. He never forgot anything; he'd bragged that same line several times.

So how could he forget that?

_"We were lovers, him and me."_

And she fired until the clip was empty.

Lisbon went to the firing range almost every evening after that. Every day when she was reminded over who was sitting in confinement, who they needed to break. Reminded of her connection to Jane and what he had done with her.

She went so often that she got a new nickname from the guys who worked there: Annie Oakley.

It was true her groupings were tighter than ever, she was more than proficient at firing a gun now she was quickly becoming the best shot in the state.

But she didn't care.

She just came evening after evening and imagined the same face every time she pulled the trigger and fired her gun once more.

_"Lover."_

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_One day the inhabitants of the immortal empire,_

_Who once were careless, united to counsel her:_

"_Eloa," they said, "Oh be very careful:_

_An angel can fall: the most beautiful of us all_

_Is here no longer. Yet in his initial virtue_

_He was called the light-bearer;_

_For he carried love and life in every place,_

_He carried God's orders to the stars,_

_The Earth consecrated his matchless beauty_

_By calling the morning star Lucifer,_

_A radiant diamond which the sun had placed_

_On his Vermillion brow amidst his golden hair._

_Yen now 'tis said he is bereft of diadem,_

_He groans, he is alone, none love him,_

_Of crime the blackness weighs upon his eyes,_

_No longer does he know the tongue of Heaven,_

_And death resides in the words of his mouth. _

_He burns what he sees, he withers what he touches_

_He senses not evil or good deeds;_

_Joyless is he at the ills which he has done._

_Heaven where once he lived is trouble by his memory._

The rest of team knew something was wrong with her, she could see them whispering about it amongst themselves but they never confronted her, not yet. She knew that something was wrong; she never acted like this, never snapped at them or acted short and churlish. But she couldn't help herself; she couldn't shake this mood, couldn't stop herself from feeling nothing but anger these days.

Her only respite was to head to the range and blow paper targets into tiny pieces.

Her frustration reached a fever pitch. The FBI finally agreed to let her team interrogate Lorelei and she was still trying to deal with Bertram who was more authoritarian then ever now that Wainwright was dead. Jane decided to add one more item to her growing list of pains.

"Promise me you won't listen."

"Excuse me?"

"I don't want you listening to me interrogating Lorelei."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm asking you to."

"I'm head of the unit, Jane. I can't just let you in there without knowing what is going on, especially with _her_. What are you going to do anyways?"

"You don't need to know."

"The hell I don't."

"What do you want?"

"I want to help you!"

"Then promise me you won't listen."

Like a fool…she did.

That night she fired round after round after round into those paper targets but this time it didn't work. She still felt the anger, the frustration, she still felt like punching Lorelei's Martin's face.

So she found a new outlet for her rage.

Lisbon changed into her gym clothes and pounded a punching bag over and over and over again. Letting it swing dangerously back and forth she hit it repeatedly.

_ "We were lovers, him and me. Did he tell you that?"_

She imagined Lorelei's pretty face as she hit the bag again.

_"Good luck, Teresa. Love you."_

Why would he say that? Why would that just come out of his mouth? Why couldn't she stop thinking it when he clearly had?

Why did it hurt so much?

_"Lover."_

She punched the bag with a loud 'thwack'.

_"Lover."_

Thwack!

_"Lover."_

Thwack!

She hit the bag until her hands hurt and she was gasping for air. She felt exhausted again but the anger was still there still simmering beneath the surface.

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_They thought Eloa would curse him; but no,_

_Fear did not change at all her untroubled face,_

_And this alarming omen for Heaven._

_Not to tremble was her first impulse,_

_But rather to draw near as it were to help;_

_Sadness appeared on her icy lip_

_As soon as a sad though offered itself;_

_She learned to dream and her innocent face_

_Fell blushing at this unknown trouble._

_A tear shone on her eyelid._

Lisbon didn't forget her promise but every time Jane went to see Lorelei it ate at her like an insect gnawing at her skin. She tried to do as he asked, tried to keep herself busy even as her hands itched to pick up the phone and find out what was going on. For a week she spent every evening at the gym venting her frustrations into the punching bag until her arms sagged with fatigue

But she couldn't stop herself for long.

She picked up the phone with finality. "Patch me through to interrogation."

And she listened to the sound of her promise shattering like glass.

Jane was being his charming suave self; she could practically hear his beautiful smile. "You need anything?" he asked Lorelei as if he were concerned about her welfare.

Actually that might of have been true, maybe he did care.

But no he only saw Lorelei as a means of catching Red John.

But he slept with her.

Lisbon's grip on the phone tightened as her thoughts soared back and forth like a tennis ball over the net. She didn't know how Jane felt and she hated that.

"Kiss me," Lorelei said seductively.

Lisbon felt her heart leap into her throat.

_'Don't do it,_' she thought, _'don't.'_

She waited for Jane to turn her down. He wasn't a fool; he knew that it was wrong to do it. He wouldn't do it. Not now, not in interrogation, not when he knew who Lorelei was.

He wouldn't do this to her.

But then she heard the unmistakable sounds of lips parting.

Lisbon pressed the phone to her ear but she didn't hear anything anymore except the blood rushing through her head. She wasn't breathing anymore but she felt her stomach rolling into a knot so tight that she felt like she was going to be sick.

She didn't even know she was crying until she set the phone down back into its cradle and saw it was wet with her tears.

Who was she crying for anyways?

_"Good luck, Teresa. Love you."_

Anger flooded her system again though she didn't know who she was angrier with, Lorelei for being the seductress, Jane for falling for it or for herself for being bothered by it in the first place. Still she didn't stop herself from bolting out of her chair and stalking into the hallway to confront her own personal menace.

She found him right outside of interrogation, just before he entered the hallway.

"You kissed her!"

He just gave her a look; like he was surprised she was angry with him. "I told you not to listen."

"Shut up, Jane! Do you have any idea how bad this is?"

"I don't see what I did was wrong. You've given things to prisoners all of the time to get them to talk."

"I've never stuck my tongue down their throat!"

"This is why I told you not to watch," Jane explained calmly, "I knew your feelings would cloud the issue."

"My feelings? _My_ feelings? I'm not your girlfriend." _Where did that come from?_ "I'm an officer of the law and I know that fraternizing with inmates is _illegal_. If I ever see your lips near hers again then I will revoke your access to her _permanently_!"

Her chest heaved as she bit out the last word with real force. She didn't know why she was saying all of this or why she was threatening to keep Jane from Lorelei. She knew that Jane was the only one who could break her.

So why was she determined to keep them apart?

And why had she compared herself as his girlfriend?

But Jane's eyes had grown very dark and he looked at her with an intensity that actually frightened her. "I will do whatever it takes to find Red John. I don't care what I have to do or say to get her to break. Don't stand in my way, Lisbon. I don't want to hurt you."

And then he walked away and she was left standing there.

Wondering.

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_Mayhap I am an exile that you sought:_

_If so, beware the jealous God your lord;_

_For having loved, for having delivered,_

_I am unhappy and reproved._

_Chaste beauty, come you to fight me or absolve?_

_You have come from that Heaven which sent down lightening to me_

_Yet so sweet to my eyes, I know not why_

_You come from high against me beautiful Angel."_

_Thus spake the Spirit. At this caressing voice,_

_Persuasion prepared against an innocent soul,_

_At these sweet gleams, the magical device_

_Of this sweet Angel, like his brethren,_

_Heavenly Eloa, veiled by her wing,_

_Stepped back, and mounted her starry road,_

Lisbon pummeled the punching bag that night.

She didn't even see it just continued to attack it again and again, using every ounce of strength she could must but she never seemed to run out. Every time she thought she would get tired a memory would flash in her mind and a new burst of rage fuel energy would surge through her and she'd attack the back with force once more.

_"Kiss me."_

Lisbon hit the bag with a strong punch that sent it swinging away like pendulum.

_"I told you not to listen."_

Thwack! She hit it again and again.

_"I'm not your girlfriend."_

She punched it and then kicked it away.

_"Good luck, Teresa. Love you."_

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

_"We were lovers, him and me. Did he tell you that?"_

Another hit, another kick.

_"So that thing you said before you shot me…wh-what did you mean?"_

_ "What did I say? I was kind of hyped up."_

Thwack! The chain holding the back creaked.

_ "I knew your feelings would cloud the issue."_

_"I'm not your girlfriend."_

_ "We were lovers,"_

_ "Lover."_

_ "Lover."_

_ "Lover."_

With a low shriek of rage she attacked the bag pummeling it with a barrage of hits that she wasn't even feeling anymore. She just kept hearing that bitch's melodic voice repeating that vile word over and over and over again.

Thwack, thwack, thwack! THWACK!

She didn't stop, not until she felt two hands grab her shoulders and forcibly pull her away from the bag. Lisbon whirled around, her fists raised ready to punch the lights out of whoever dared to come up behind her. She almost did just that but her mind registered that it was Rigsby standing in front of her before she did some serious damage.

"Rigsby, what the hell do you think you are doing?" she shouted, lowering her fists and glaring at him.

The tall man looked at her with wide startled eyes. "I'm sorry, boss but you needed to stop."

"Why?" she snapped.

He shook his head and then pointed down at her hands. Now Lisbon looked down and gasped.

Her knuckles were torn and bleeding, the torn ragged skin was mottled with bruises and red blood. She hadn't even felt the pain, hadn't even noticed. In her haste to vent her anger she'd forgotten to put on her gloves and had never seen the blood marring her skin. She hadn't heard or felt anything.

Except her rage.

"Oh my God," she breathed and now felt the heavy weight of her tired arms.

"What were you thinking of, boss?" Rigsby asked, she could hear the horror in his voice.

She looked up at him now. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

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_Oh the ineffable delight of moments of love!_

_Heart responds to heart like air to the lyre._

_Just as a young lover, adored teacher,_

_Expounds the desire inspired by himself,_

_And helping his beloved against Shame,_

_Dragging off her charmed weakness in his arms,_

_All drunk with hop, more than half victor,_

_Declares the vows which she makes in her heart,_

_The Prince of Spirits, in a suffocated voice,_

_Expounded the thought of the timid Virgin,_

_Eloa without speaking, said: "I am yours":_

_And the Angel of the shadows said aloud: "Be mine!"_

There was no hiding the bandages around her hands. It would be a few weeks before the skin would grow back and until then her knuckles would be bruised and raw. From the looks Grace and Cho had thrown her way she knew that Rigsby had informed them of the incident in the gym. They all wanted to know what was wrong with her.

The only one that seemed to know was Jane.

When he saw the bandages he simply looked at her a little sadly. "You should have worn gloves."

"I won't forget again."

She stood at her desk staring at him while he stood in her doorway doing the same to her. Questions were flying through her mind; so many things she wanted to say but she couldn't find her voice.

Jane turned to leave but then he turned right back, his mouth was open as if he was trying to say something. But then his eyes darkened and he turned around, but this time he did walk away.

Once again she was left staring after him and wondering what could he possibly have wanted to say.

_"Good luck, Teresa. Love you."_

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"_For one day I saw you through the threads of the air _

_I mingled, veiled like a winter Sun._

_I saw once more the ineffable region_

_Of the luminous peoples of the azure fatherland,_

_Where fear always abides among the gods._

_You alone appeared to me like a young star_

_Which well away from the vast night pierces the veil;_

_You along appeared to me as what people ever seek,_

_That which man pursues in the shadow of his days,_

_The God who along knows the mystery of happiness,_

_And the Queen whom my lonely throne awaits._

_Finally, through your presence so able to charm me,_

_It was revealed that I could love._

Grace was the one who came in later. "Are you okay?" she asked softly while she set her report down.

Lisbon was staring down at her bandaged hands and she slowly shook her head. "No, no I'm not." She looked up and met Grace's soulful brown eyes. "I don't understand it, why can't I get a grip? Why can't I let this go?"

"I…I don't know," Grace replied gently. Lisbon sighed heavily and flicked her eyes to the window where she could watch the sunlight filter through the closed blinds. "What happened between you and Jane?"

That was a damn good question.

_"So that thing you said before you shot me…wh-what did you mean?"_

_ "What did I say? I was kind of hyped up."_

The only answer Lisbon could come up with was a lie. "Nothing."

She wished that were true, if it were than maybe it would hurt so much.

Grace somberly nodded her head. "Okay," she said before quietly turning around and quitting her office while Lisbon still continued to stare out the window.

She knew there was only one way she would ever find out.

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"_Since you are handsome, good your needs must be_

_For when a soul quits Heaven,_

_Like a holy vestment we see its goodness_

_Give it eternal beauty entering._

_Yet…wherefore does your speech instill dread in me?_

_Why is your brow impressed with so much sadness?_

_How could you come down from the Holy Place?_

_And how not, loving God, can you love me?"_

…

"_How came I to know your senseless ardor?_

_Cursed be the time that I stood up to God;_

_Oh the simplicity of heart to which I bade adieu!_

_I tremble before you, yet I adore you still;_

_I am less the criminal since I still love you:_

_But into my withered heart you will come nevermore!"_

Lorelei Martins was clearly surprised when Lisbon walked into the room with a determined expression on her face. The young woman's eyes widened but she quickly quirked her lovely lips into a smile. "I thought Patrick had come to talk to me again."

"Not today," Lisbon said simply, she took a seat across from her. There was no folder in her hand because there was no point. For once Lisbon was breaking one of her own rules, she was interrogating someone for personal reasons. At least she had asked for the recording devices to be turned off.

The other woman simply smiled knowingly. "You believe you can get me to talk?"

She shook her head. "No, I didn't bring you here to talk about Red John."

This made Lorelei grin now. "Oh, it's Patrick you wish to discuss."

Lisbon leaned forward. "Both of you think you are playing the other, one is wrong, I'd like to know which."

"Why don't you ask Patrick?"

"Because I know his judgment is never good when it comes to Red John."

Lorelei turned her eyes to the space beside Lisbon. "He is a sad soul isn't he? He thinks he's evil, a plague to everyone who is near him, but you know that already don't you?" Now Lorelei met her eyes once more and leaned across the table. "What do you really want to know? What questions are burning in your soul? Would like to know what kind of lover he is? How many times?"

"Stop!" Lisbon growled out, seething now with rage.

It was a stupid thing to do because now Lorelei looked extremely pleased with herself. She sat back in her chair and studied Lisbon with a careful glance. "I was wrong."

That surprised Lisbon. "About what?"

"About you."

This wasn't making any sense. What the hell was this woman talking about? "I didn't come here to talk about me."

"Oh but you did. You did because it's bothering you." She nodded her head towards Lisbon's bandaged hands, "It's driving you mad and you don't know why, you can't understand why all you feel is anger, why you can't get him and me out of your mind."

Lisbon simply stared Lorelei; she didn't want to show how shocked she was. How had this woman seen so much? How did she know?

Lorelei simply smiled once more. "He talks about you?"

She glanced up. "Jane?"

"No."

Now Lisbon was really surprised. She knew exactly who Lorelei was talking about but she simply couldn't believe that Red John ever gave her any notice. Lorelei grinned now. "I was wrong and he was right."

"About me?"

Lorelei nodded her head. "He talked about you, about how you have this strong determination for your job. To follow the rules, do the right thing, you see the world in black and white, good and evil and you have faith that everything will balance itself out once more. And your loyalty, that he cannot help but admire. Your loyalty to Patrick. Time and again he tests it but you still stand by him, always watching out for him.

"I called you Saint Teresa because that was what I assumed you were, the saint who performed miracles. But he told me, 'No, no my dear. She is Eloa, which is a far worse fate'."

Lisbon's brow furrowed. "Who is Eloa?"

But Lorelei ignored the question; she smiled again and shook her head. "Poor Eloa. The sweet innocent who does not see the true evil lurking, who cannot know how doomed she really is. Perhaps there is a chance, there is one moment where everything can be saved…" Now a slow cruel smile graced her lips, "but if not…then you are doomed to fall into hell with him."

"Who is Eloa?" Lisbon repeated.

But Lorelei remained silent, sitting quietly with a knowing smirk on her lips and Lisbon knew that the talk was over.

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_The Temptor himself was almost charmed;_

_He had forgot his wiles and his victim,_

_And for a moment he drew back from his crime._

_Quite low he repeated with his brow in his hands:_

"_O human tears, would that I had known you!"_

_ Ah, if in that moment the Virgin could have heard him,_

_Had he grasped repentant, ready to mount again,_

_The heavenly hand she would venture to stretch out to him…_

_Who knows? Perhaps evil had ceased to exist?_

"You spoke to her!"

This time it was Jane who was accusing and angry. But Lisbon wasn't phased by it, she wasn't repentant at all. If anything she was even more confused.

"Yes," Lisbon told him firmly, "As lead investigator I do have a right."

Jane glowered at her; he raised one hand and pointed at her. "You shouldn't have done that."

"And why not?"

"Because I don't want you messing with what I have in motion?"

"Really?" Lisbon asked, her own voice high with anger now. "That's what you are doing? I had no idea that tongue wrestling with our suspect is a proper interrogation technique."

They both stood in her office, their breathing was fast and intense and now they were only standing a foot apart. She was so close to him she could faintly feel his warm breath wafting against her skin, she could see the sparks lighting up behind his eyes. She found herself focusing on his lips which were now set in a firm line. "What did she say?"

Lisbon shook her head. "Nothing that made sense." She ran the pad of her thumb on the bandage over her other hand.

When she looked up she saw that there was a softer look on Jane's face. "Why did you want to see her?"

She looked down; she couldn't look into his eyes when he was looking at her like that. "I had to know what's wrong."

To her surprise Jane reached over and loosely took her hand, his fingertips grazing the bandage and the skin it covered. "No, you don't."

"Yes I—."

"Believe me, Teresa. You are better off not knowing."

Teresa. He never called her that, only once or twice. Only when he was saying something truly important.

_"Good luck, Teresa. Love you."_

She shook her head. "You can't know that."

"Yes I do," He told her gently. "I am going to do whatever it takes to find Red John. You have to let this go, there is only pain otherwise and I have never wanted to see you hurt." He squeezed her hand. "I'm sorry this happened, I should have stopped it…but I have always been a selfish man."

Now he was talking in riddles.

Lisbon looked up at him, letting him see how confused he was. But Jane just squeezed her hand again and gave her sad smile. "Don't listen in again, keep that promise this time." Then he released her hand and turned around to walk away once more.

And she still had no idea.

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_Eloa comes and weeps; they converse thus:_

"_What have I don't to you then? What's wrong? I'm here."_

"_You want to run from me, perhaps forever_

_How you punish me for having got to know you!"_

"_I would prefer to stay but the Lord awaits me._

_I want to speak up for you, often he listens to us."_

_ "He can do nothing for me. My lot cannot be changed._

_You alone are the god who can save an Angel."_

"_What can I do? Alas tell me, must I stay?"_

"_Yes come down to me, because I cannot come up."_

"_Exile myself from heaven?"_

"_What does it matter if you love me?_

_Touch my hand. Soon with equal scorn_

_Good and evil will be confounded for us._

_You have never understood the charm to be found_

_In offering one's breast to hide the tears of another._

_Come. There is happiness which I alone can teach you_

_You will open your soul, and I will broaden it there;"_

Lisbon couldn't get Lorelei out of her head but instead of being tormented with the reminder of how intimate she had been with her consultant, Lisbon was haunted by something else entirely. _"She is Eloa, which is a far worse fate"_

What did that mean? Who the hell was Eloa?

It bothered Lisbon more than she wanted to admit. While Lisbon had a good idea that Jane knew what Lorelei probably meant by her remark, she also knew that Jane had no intention of telling her. That left Lisbon with one other option.

Cho was alone in the bullpen, reading over a report like the dutiful special agent he was. "Cho," Lisbon said, catching his attention. He looked up at her calmly waited for her to begin. "You read a lot."

"Yes."

That was probably the dumbest thing she had said in a while. "Do you…have you ever heard of someone named Eloa?"

The man's eyebrows quirked up. "Where did you hear that?"

"Someone mentioned it to me." That was about as big an understatement as she had ever made but Lisbon didn't care.

Cho accepted that she was going to keep things to herself. Instead he flipped the report over and leaned back in his seat. "_Eloa_ is a poem by Alfred de Vigney, it was written in French but I read a translation once."

She leaned back against his desk, ready to listen. "What is it about?"

"Eloa is an angel born from the tears that Christ wept when Lazarus died," Cho explained simply. "She is the most innocent of angels because she was born after the fall of Satan and therefore does not know about him. They warn her about him but instead of being afraid…she's sad. She feels like everyone has abandoned him and she wonders if she could help him."

Lisbon crossed her arms over her chest. "Interesting, but since when has the Prince of Darkness ever been redeemable."

"That's what is unique, in the poem Satan is described as hating himself, hating his sins and his wickedness but he doesn't know how to save himself. He is resigned to his fate."

_'Sounds a lot like, Jane' _Lisbon thought but kept her musings to herself. "So what happens to Eloa?"

"She leaves Heaven and goes to Earth and then the realm in-between. There she meets a stranger, one who has displeased God. He tells her of his misery and she is sad. The stranger falls in love with her and wants to keep her with him but he knows that if he asks her he will destroy her. He alternates between wanting her to leave and begging her to stay. Eventually she agrees to go down with him and he hates himself as he carries her down to her doom. That is when she finds out who he is…Satan."

Lisbon's eyebrows shot up to her hairline. "Why doesn't she leave then?"

Cho shook his head. "It's too late, she's already in love with him. That's the interesting part, for a moment she almost convinced him to repent, to beg God for forgiveness. But he decides he cannot so she goes with him instead…in the end, their love doomed them both."

She stood there, leaning up against his desk, staring off at the space beside him. She heard his words, heard what he said about Eloa and how she destroyed her life with her ill-found love.

But she also heard someone else.

_"Poor Eloa. The sweet innocent who does not see the true evil lurking, who cannot know how doomed she really is."_

"Boss…you okay?"

Lisbon didn't say anything; instead she turned around and numbly walked away.

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"_I love you. I'll go down. But what will Heaven say?"_

Lisbon stood there at the firing range once more. Her gun was set firmly in her hand, her feet were squared off and the paper target was set in front of her.

But she didn't fire a shot.

_"Good luck, Teresa. Love you."_

_"So that thing you said before you shot me…wh-what did you mean?"_

_ "What did I say? I was kind of hyped up."_

The paper target stirred softly in the draft but it was still in tact.

_ "We were lovers, him and me. Did he tell you that?"_

_"You kissed her!"_

_ "I told you not to listen."_

But she couldn't conjure up any anger.

_ "I'm not your girlfriend. I'm an officer of the law."_

_"I don't know what's wrong with me."_

_ "She is Eloa, which is a far worse fate."_

_ "Poor Eloa. The sweet innocent who does not see the true evil lurking, who cannot know how doomed she really is."_

She was still standing there, still had the gun held up in her hands and pointed at the target. For almost twenty minutes she stood there and didn't fire a single shot. Finally Chris walked up behind her.

"Annie?" He asked, still using her nickname, "Is something wrong?"

_ "I'm sorry this happened, I should have stopped it…but I have always been a selfish man."_

Lisbon turned to look at him, her eyes wide and her face was pale while her lips trembled just a little bit.

She knew.

"I'm in love with him."

She didn't notice the confused look on Chris's face, she didn't care. She just set the gun down on the small table and walked away. Leaving Chris to stare after her, wondering what had just happened.

"_Where are you taking me, beautiful Angel?"_

"_Come on."_

"_How sad is your voice and somber your talk!_

_Is not Eloa removing your chain?_

_I thought I had saved you!"_

"_No, it is I who am dragging you off."_

"_If we are together, I don't care where it is!_

_Call me then your Sister or your God!"_

"_I carry off my slave, I have my victim."_

"_You seemed so good! Oh, what have I done?"_

"_A crime."_

"_Will you at least be happier, are you content?_

"_Sadder than ever."_

"_Who are you then?"_

"_Lucifer."_

* * *

__A/N: Well what did you think? I wanted to do this after I read the spoiler that Lisbon would start to realize her true feelings for Jane in season 5 (yay!) and this was simply my idea of how it could happen.

I've always compared Jane and Lisbon's relationship to the fictional one of Eloa and Lucifer since to me Jane is darkness and Lisbon is light, like Eloa she has the opportunity to possibly redeem him...or their love could corrupt her and they'll both be doomed. It's an interesting idea that love can be both savior and poison in this case.

Please review and don't worry, I'm off to continue Lavinia!


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